The End of Cloud's Strife
by Nin
Summary: He finds himself with dulled senses in a room he knows too much about but can not comprehend and his only guide is the man he thought he was once. (elements of Cloud/Aeris and an experimental writing style)


The End of Cloud's Strife  
  
By  
  
Nin Tendo  
  
~ Disclaimer ~ Heh. We all know that FFVII would have a much better English translation if I had been in charge. (This is coming from someone who only knows a few choice Japanese words, and no kanji at all) n_n  
  
Warning: Contains elements of Cloud/Aeris. Also, I'm experimenting with a strange new writing style. But try to enjoy it anyway. :p  
  
===============================================================  
  
He couldn't see, or feel much, but he could think and hear and smell and taste, although his thoughts were unusually clouded, a murky haze framing his consciousness, tainting reason.  
  
Feet fell all around him and his hearing was dulled. Voices sprang excitedly from everywhere, but he couldn't make out the words. They were loud and garbled as though they passed through the thicker medium of water to reach his ears. He decided he must be swimming, but didn't know why he could not hear the waves softly crashing like they usually did, and the footfalls and voices ended unexpectedly. It was a still lake, he decided, and what was that sound? That shrill, piercing one? His PHS, he decided. It worked underwater, didn't it? He couldn't remember.  
  
His thoughts and hearing were dulled, but his other senses, those of smell and taste, remained sharp. There lay an odd flavor on his tongue. It was thick and sticky, bitterly metallic, and it slid up and down his throat with relentless determination. There came an odd revelation that he should find this nauseating, but, confused at that thought, he reasoned, I find it very comfortable, actually.  
  
Can you smell underwater? he wondered, but couldn't remember. It didn't matter. It smelled very clean, this place, but he couldn't connect the unique scent to any one location, although a nagging thought assured him that he should have known. This water smells very clean. Does a nose work underwater? Maybe only his ears were under the surface. Yes, I am floating on my back in calm clean water, he decided, and he was content to think of that for a while.  
  
Suddenly, he ceased to hear and feel and taste and smell, and the dull gray haze crept forward. I'm sinking, he decided.  
  
I'm sinking. I'm sinking.  
  
I'm sinking, he decided, but couldn't bring himself to care, and he thought he heard static, maybe.  
  
===============================================================  
  
Hello, hello, came the voice. Hello, hello.  
  
The gray receded to the corners of his vision, but it was unlike any vision he had ever known, really, almost like he knew too much about what he now saw, but couldn't make sense of it. Suddenly, it was very quiet, and he decided he thought that because his ears had been full of that strange shrill sound before a few moments ago. His PHS? he wondered. What was that, again?  
  
Are you all right? asked the voice.  
  
Funny, he thought. The voice is everywhere and nowhere. I feel dizzy.  
  
It's all right. It's all right. Come to slowly. Don't worry. Don't worry.  
  
He was in a bed, in a room, and that was all. The room was large and empty and the voice echoed now.  
  
The room was large and empty and very plain, and he thought his gray-rimmed gaze was all that offered variety to the somehow comforting white room. I feel sick.  
  
It's all right. It's all right, the voice echoed again. What's wrong? Is it your motion sickness again?  
  
Motion sickness? he wondered. But, I'm not moving, am I? I'm only lying here, aren't I?  
  
Are you? the voice replied.  
  
Are you? Are you? the room echoed.  
  
Suddenly he was onboard a flying ship, on the outer deck, and a strong gust took hold of him and he fell, hard, head crashing against wood. It fled and he stood, but now the airship rocked violently beneath him and he desperately stumbled across the deck, feet stomping, seeking futile purchase on the boards, arms whirling in frantic patterns, hoping to catch the rail.  
  
And then he was back in the room and the ceiling was spinning, spinning, spinning and it suddenly stopped, leaving him with nothing but an older boy without any expression other than a small frown and black spiky hair in stark contrast to the blond tendrils that teased the gray corners of what he called his vision.  
  
Zack, he realized, in a moment of clarity void of any other related information.  
  
No, said Zack, just the man you thought you were once.  
  
For the lost boy, this somehow made sense, but continued to think the name in reference to him nevertheless, for the lack of a better title.  
  
Then who am I? he wondered, and the thought disturbed him.  
  
You are you and only you, not Zack, said Zack.  
  
I am... But his thoughts trailed off.  
  
Yes, said Zack. You are.  
  
You are, the room echoed.  
  
It was a thought that surprisingly put him at ease. Yes. I am.  
  
Yes, said Zack, and, you know, that never changes.  
  
Yes, he thought. I exist, and that never changes.  
  
Never, the room echoed.  
  
Are you ready? asked Zack.  
  
For what? he wondered.  
  
Are you ready to get up? Zack asked. Are you ready to get out?  
  
Out? he wondered, but rose. The bed faded into the gray, forgotten. Wait, I don't know. What are you asking?  
  
Are you ready to let go? Zack rephrased.  
  
I don't...I don't understand, he thought in confusion.  
  
I see, replied Zack. You need more time.  
  
More time for what? he wondered.  
  
More time, Zack answered, to think, to realize, to accept, to move on.  
  
Move on, he thought. It bothered him. I don't want to move on. I like this here just fine. This is fine. I don't want to go...out there.  
  
Are you afraid? Zack asked.  
  
Afraid, the room echoed in distaste.  
  
No! he thought. Yes, he conceded.  
  
That's fine, said Zack. That's natural. No one knows what the future holds, what is beyond this place. But you must face it. Isn't it by living that one has life? And is life not a form of existence? And, living. What is it to be living? Isn't it...experience? And experience is gained through facing hardships, is it not?  
  
Is it not? echoed the room, chastising.  
  
I guess, he guessed.  
  
Everything must change, Zack continued. Nothing can ever remain as it is. Even the rock becomes dust. Even the cloud will one day fall as rain. You cannot stay in this place forever. It is both unnatural and futile.  
  
Unnatural, echoed the room, with emphasis. Futile.  
  
I'll leave, he agreed. Eventually.  
  
Eventually. Zack nodded. Eventually.  
  
Eventually, the room echoed in approval.  
  
Wait, he thought. If nothing ever stays, then where was I before here?  
  
But Zack only shrugged.  
  
Will I find out...beyond this place? he asked.  
  
Beyond, the room echoed in determination, this place.  
  
But Zack only shrugged again.  
  
Lines of light appeared on the wall and a door folded into existence. The door cracked open and it had the same texture as the wall itself.  
  
Wh-what's on the other side? he asked, suddenly stuttering, scared. All he could see beyond it was a bright, bright light.  
  
You know, Zack replied. You know, deep down.  
  
Deep, deep down, echoed the room. You know.  
  
Deep down? he wondered, and thought hard, staring at the door. He could remember nothing, yet, unexpectedly, all fear of the light vanished and all that remained was awe. How could I have been so afraid? It's beautiful, beautiful.  
  
Beautiful, echoed the room, cherishing the word.  
  
Zack, he thought, suddenly.  
  
Are you afraid? Zack asked.  
  
No, he thought.  
  
Are you ready? Zack asked.  
  
Yes, he answered, a moment later.  
  
What's on the other side? Zack asked.  
  
The words tore out of his very existence. Happiness. Beauty. Joy. Love. Everything, he replied, everything that anyone could ever hope for.  
  
Everything, the room echoed in satisfaction.  
  
Zack faded away with a small smile, forgotten, and he crossed the room, to the door, and pushed it the rest of the way open.  
  
Light flooded everything, and it was so beautiful.  
  
===============================================================  
Here he was again on the flying ship he now remembered as the Highwind, and the wind teased and pulled at his hair and clothes.  
  
But what really startled him was the absence of gray. His vision was sharp. Everything was so clear now.  
  
A woman was leaning against the rail, ten feet away, staring at the view in awe. It was sunset, and the muted light still managed to light up her face.  
  
She wore a long pink dress and a small red jacket. Her hair was chestnut brown, long, and unbound, but from the way it curled, it was obvious that it had spent a great deal of time confined into a braid.  
  
She suddenly pulled herself away from the railing and turned to look at him with her beautiful, beautiful sparkling green eyes.  
  
Cloud, she said, and his identity rushed back to him. Thank you for keeping your promise.  
  
Aeris, said Cloud, in shock and awe and confusion.  
  
You finally came to meet me, said Aeris, and extended her arm, her hands, her fingertips, in an effort to reach him.  
  
Aeris, Cloud said once more in disbelief, stepping toward her.  
  
But now wispy green stands of light began to collect around her, gathering her, lifting her up and away from him.  
  
Aeris! Cloud exclaimed in desperation, running towards her, but suddenly the distance between them appeared to be so much larger.  
  
There was no fear, no doubt, in Aeris' expectant green eyes, only affection and anticipation as Lifestream gently pulled her over the railing. She leaned forward and reached down to him, her dress flowing in a nonexistent breeze but somehow the hem remained loyally at her heels.  
  
Cloud arrived and the rail a moment later, but it was too late and their fingertips only grazed. Determination set in his eyes and without another thought, began to climb up and over.  
  
He chanced to look back only once and saw ghostly gray images screaming at him, No, Cloud, don't go! Come back, Cloud! Come back! But they were soon overcome by the gray and forgotten.  
  
Atop the rail, Cloud hunched down low and leapt.  
  
But the free air did not greet him and he found himself in cold, lonely waters.  
  
He closed his eyes and drifted for an awful eternity before soft, whole fingers closed around his, and suddenly, he ceased to drown and flew.  
  
Hello, hello. Hello, hello.  
  
Now he lay on his back, in a garden, in a church. She stared down at him from above, fingers tracing his jaw line and his own hand rose up to hers in response.  
  
It's so good to finally meet you, she whispered, and maybe they kissed right then, but he couldn't remember because one happiness melted into the next and existence wasn't nearly as painful as he'd previously known and Strife dissolved into bliss.  
  
Thus Cloud, not Zack, met Aeris for the first time.  
  
===============================================================  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Hopefully, someone will review so I can find out how much this story made sense. lol I also wonder how many people will understand its significance and all the neat little themes and symbols I was attempting to portray. n_n I might be tempted to explain a few things if enough people are totally confused. 


End file.
